


fate at a pivot point

by VenatorNoctis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Hand Feeding, M/M, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/pseuds/VenatorNoctis
Summary: Dinner for five, outside a caravan on one of Leide's highways.Ardyn has taken off his hat as he sits at one of the flimsy plastic chairs and watches the young king's retinue go through their evening routine. They pay him little heed with an honesty and a confidence that are frankly refreshing. It's not often around humans that he can simplybe.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ardyn Izunia
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78
Collections: All The Nice Things Flash Exchange 2020





	fate at a pivot point

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Welsper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsper/gifts).



The sun is setting, a last red glow over the western hills, and the soft light of the outpost lamps cannot, if Ardyn may say so, hold a candle to that fierce purifying glare. It may keep away the daemons who can't think enough to reason out differences, but only because they assume it must. The differences are quite apparent if one pays attention.

For instance: the outpost lights don't hurt his eyes. Ardyn has taken off his hat as he sits at one of the flimsy plastic chairs and watches the young king's retinue go through their evening routine. They pay him little heed with an honesty and a confidence that are frankly refreshing. It's not often around humans that he can simply _be_.

At least until the food is ready. There are four chairs scattered around the little table outside the caravan, and four members of Noctis' adventuring party, which would be a perfectly equitable arrangement on an ordinary night. But now Ardyn is here with them, and he finds he's ill inclined to move.

Noctis is the first to bring his plate out from the caravan's tiny kitchen, and he plops down with it without a care. Gladiolus is right behind him, positioning himself like a good Shield between his prince and the interloper. Then Prompto follows, and stops as he visibly considers the one remaining chair and his longsuffering comrade still acquiring sustenance.

"Don't worry," Ardyn says helpfully. "I don't mind if Ignis wants to sit on my lap."

Gladiolus makes a low sound, like a guard dog growling its one and only warning. Prompto, though, looks thoughtful for a second and then steps up to seat himself squarely across Ardyn's thighs. "Iggy worked hard making dinner. He shouldn't have to put up with you on top of that."

" _Put up with_ , as though I'm a chore and not completely—" Prompto stuffs a morsel of food into his mouth before Ardyn can say _delightful_ , but by happy coincidence that surprise is itself a delight. Strictly speaking Ardyn doesn't need food; it isn't what sustains him anymore. He goes for embarrassingly long times without even thinking about it. 

Ignis' cooking is an excellent reminder of what makes food enjoyable. The bite Prompto feeds him is fried crunchy on the outside, then creamy on the inside with a tangy blend of flavors he can't quite identify—a sensual pleasure simpler than that of having a handsome young man in one's lap, but the two complement each other remarkably well. Ardyn savors his mouthful and, when it's gone, opens his mouth for another.

"You've created a monster," Noctis says wryly.

"Aw, he's not so bad," Prompto says. "Are you?" As he feeds Ardyn another morsel off his plate, his other hand snakes around to curl against the back of Ardyn's neck, fingertips slipping under the tangle of scarves to find his skin. It's such a gentle touch, with none of the violence of a soldier or the cold curiosity of a researcher, only an easy, unfamiliar camaraderie. Ardyn can't help himself. He licks Prompto's fingertips.

Prompto startles in his lap but doesn't pull back, and in fact recovers enough to trace the line of Ardyn's lower lip before he pulls his hand away. "You're pretty obnoxious," he says—not accusatory but simply a statement—"but I think a lot of people think that about me, too. So I'm not going to hold it against you." His other hand is ever so lightly scratching the back of Ardyn's neck, making it hard to restrain the shiver.

"You are a prince among princes," Ardyn murmurs, closing his eyes to lean into the touch. He can hear Noctis and Ignis conversing in low tones but isn't trying to make out the words. This moment is so _peaceful_ , it seems a shame to do anything but savor it.

Simple human pleasures have been out of his reach for a long time, and it seemed his fate that they remain so. But perhaps his fate isn't quite as immutable as he's been led to believe. Perhaps it would be worth testing just how set in stone the future really is.

Perhaps Prompto would be willing to help.


End file.
